Redwall
by A Pool of Cinnamon
Summary: Martin summons a new prophecy.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! This is my first story so be nice people and don't hurt my feelings. No flames.**

Sunfroc scampered out onto the Abbey lawn, which spread wide and green. The morning was misty and a light morning dew was scattered over the grass. A roar combined with laughter grew louder and louder as Dibbuns raced after her, pouring out from inside the Abbey doors. Occasionally, Sunfroc would skip over a patch of wildflowers as the Abbeybabes continued to chase her. Soon, the lawn was covered in trampled wildflowers and flattened grass. Foggir the mole dove out of the stampede and landed on Sunfroc.

"Redwaaaaall! Ee leave us'ns alone you'm bad vermint!"

"It very bad to hurt likkle Dibbuns like us!" Scuttle the bankvole shouted.

"Aye, an you call us maggits," a little otter named Jeslea screeched.

"Enough is enough," Mother Phirra said, appearing at the door.

"Thank you, Mother," Sunfroc wheezed. The badger glanced slyly at the panting group.

"My little dirty Dibbuns, don't you agree that we should all take a bath? I'm going to scrub you till you smell like rosewater! Here's my bargain, the first one to the lake gets a blueberry scone. And you, Sunfroc," she nodded at the scraggly mouse, "I'm going to wash you up like when you were just a mousebabe." Sunfroc's jaw dropped in horror.

"Don't wanna!" she cried. Sobbing, she ran towards the main gate to Redwall Abbey and bumped straight into...

"Father Abbot!" Phirra gasped. Quickly she ran over and lectured Sunfroc.

"Don't," Abbot Taffin said calmly, "And Sunfroc! Aren't you muddy! Phirra, go bathe the Dibbuns. Sunfroc will catch up later." He winked. "Now, here's your job as long as you refuse to bathe now..."

* * *

Sunfroc tugged on the last weed and uprooted it."Phew! Now just gotta replant the flowers." She stared reluctantly at the wide lawn, suddenly regretting that she had loved the vastness of it before. "Leityn!" she whispered desperately. Leityn the young pretty little molemaid appeared from a hole in the ground.

"Oi doant know whoi Oi even helps ee. Moi habit is all ruined, burr aye. Naow wot do ee want oi to do?" Sunfroc sighed gratefully.

"Leityn, I don't know how I ever could repay your kindness. Really, I mean..." Leityn tugged her snout respectfully.

"Naow, naow, doant embarass oi, or oi'll change moi moind." The youngest daughter of Foremole blushed as she spoke.

"Leityn, I need help to dig holes for-"

"Say no more! A mole ain't a mole 'less she can dig holes." Leityn flexed her claws. "See moi diggin' claws? Moi farther Foremole said they'm bees the sharpest shoiniest he'm ever seen! Naow oi c'n dig ee a hole with they'm. Woant moi father be proud of oi." Sunfroc hid a smile and nodded vigorously.

"I need many holes for planting flowers."

"Oi do loves flowers! When ee's done planting, save oi sum flower seeds so oi c'n plant a few and keep they'm for moiself, hurr hurr." Sunfroc nodded then burst into mole speech.

"Naow we'm best get to work, afore h'Abbot Taffing or Mother Phirra cums along."

* * *

_Extract from the writings of Elmint the Recorder._

_It is a wonderful sunny day outside, as it always is in the spring. Sunfroc is replanting the flowers in the garden after the Dibbuns trampled them. The only thing that worries me is that there hasn't been much rain and our crops cannot grow without rain. The Abbot should be appointing the season name. Oh, I feel light like a jubilant Dibbun, now, though my tail isn't as bushy as before. I always loved Nameday and there's something Mother Phirra and Abbot Taffin won't let me forget. Sunfroc looks about done now, and she's joining the other young Abbeymaids at the pond. Ooh, those Dibbuns and maids must be lucky to bathe their footpaws in the cool water. Cramped up in this rusted bowl of a gatehouse isn't the funnest way to spend a fine spring day, especially when there's a big feast being prepared for Nameday. Now, should I tell all the Dibbuns about the feast or not?_

Elmint was interrupted by the sound of Serieth's voice.

"No! Don't tell the young uns wot we been planning."

"You young 'edgehog, you're as worse as any of them. I yet wonder why the Abbot let you work in the kitchen. Now tell Friar Ethric to converse with your father and brother, the cellarhogs. Maybe your father Sordek didn't want you don't there causing a lot of trouble down in the cellars. You should learn from Synex, your brother."

"Ye don't know that half of it." Serieth grinned and raced off. The Friar's voice could be heard shouting orders in these distance.

"Cunverse with the jolly cellarhogs, got ya. Too bad ya ain't as good as yer pater, Serieth. Purrfle, take that deeper 'n ever pie out of that oven! Can't have you molechaps burning the bally old pie, wot wot?" Elmint chuckled and shook his head.

"Better not eat the feast afore he serves it, eh mate?" The Skipper of Otters trotted in. "You know those hares..."

"Fight like ten an' eat like twenty." They sighed in unison. The Friar's voice sounded again.

"Skipper! Elmint! I don't got these two long ears fer nothing, you blighters! If you don't want me, yer cook, to eat me own fill, better not count on eating any blinkin' vittles yerself!" Putting on an innocent expression, Skipper pulled a long face. The hare started again.

"Don't try ter pull tricks off the High Offisah of the Kitchen and Commander of the Pastry 'n Pie Guard Patrol! For the rest of the day you must address me by my full title, sah! You too, riverdog." Stifling a giggle, Elmint replied.

"Yes, sah!" The High Offisah of the Kitchen and Commander of the Pastry 'n Pie Guard Patrol saluted smartly then went back to shouting orders.

* * *

Somewhere far away...

Lystic the squirrelmaid padded along the path. A squirrel warrior trotted down a path perpendicular to hers. Then the pair bumped into each other. Lystic, in her pale lavender dress and the Trephen the squirrel warrior in a silvery blue tunic, almost toppled into a puddle of mud. Lystic stumbled more than Trephen, and he caught her before she hit the mud. Taking off his hat with a pink feather sticking out of it, Trephen bowed. Lystic, known throught the land for her lovely voice, started singing happily.

"Oh warrior bold, oh warrior brave,

Fair little maiden me, did you save,

But maiden me, sweet like a rose,

Only sniffed and stuck up my nose,

'Don't care of me next time,

You're such a disgrace

To one who only dresses

In ribbons and lace'" Trephen recognizing the song, caught on.

"But I draw my sword to protect you anyway,

So fair little maiden please do as I say,

Don't let the wind blow away your petals light,

Please leave the best of your nature for me,

Don't let a branch get in the way of your flight,

Or else I will have to climb up and set you back free

Fly little bird, full of grace

Put a smile upon your face." Lystic continued.

"Oh warrior true, with smile sincere,

I shed for you, a happy tear

Let's make a bargain, and on your part

I'll lend you my tear, if you lend me your heart."

**So how do you like? Please review. I am not half as good as Brian Jacques and I never will be but please do not flame me only constructive critisicm. Aye?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 up! Yay! Reviewing is good. I hope you knew. That you should. Review too. Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaartay!  
**

"Shrum a dum dum

Shree a dee dee

Guosim! Guosim!

Sail on happily.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!

I am a shrew.

You are one too.

I know a few.

But none like you.

We like to sail.

On the crystal blue.

I wish I had.

I big fine crew.

Full of Guosim shrews like you."

Log a log applauded Ordet for his well sung Guosim shrew song. Alpin stood up next. He had a grand and deep voice and sang clearly. He was loved by many females.

"I will sing for all the Guosim." Everybeast shushed.

"When shrews didn't sail,

And ravens didn't rave,

And otters didn't dive,

And no bat lived in a cave,

No mole lived in a hole,

No hare ate more than his share,

No badger lifted boulders,

And land was filled with bad corsairs...

But us Guosim! Our Guosim!

Colored headbands, shrew rapiers!

Drove them! We drove them!

Into the swamp of hungry frogs!

Led by Log a Log!

Ordet and me, Alpin

Juden and Myulsed

Roltin, Valt, Strint!

Daddle, Choss, and Glynt.

Our whole crew!

Including you..." He winked at a couple of females, who fainted.

"And ever since, that's wot Guosim do!"

* * *

Martin the Warrior was visiting Symest, the Abbey Warrior mouse, in his dream.

"Warrior, speak naught but what's true

Follow not the bright but the ones who you slew

Find first swamp of gold then the sail- and singing beast

Then rest at the home of the ten fight and double feast

Follow the stripe of the second best, midnight when blood spills to the sky

It is the blood of Nobeast, for Nobeast shall die.

Do not look to the firelit, only firelight.

After soup is boiled, then will it taste right.

Silence of waiting, patience does not fly

Before dawn is breaking, sound your battle cry

Now speak as I tell, clear and bold

Nobeast shall hear if it's untold."

Symest woke up, blinking. Then he did what any decent warrior would do. He went to Elmint the Recorder.

Elmint looked over his neatly printed little words.

"I do not understand, Symest. I am sorry. But I can try to help you. Go find Sunfroc; she is a sly little mouse. She might help you. I will be thinking." Symest nodded wisely, trying not to show his disappointment.

"Thanks lay upon you." Then he hurried off to find the mousemaid.

* * *

"Ahhhh..." Sunfroc smiled, "Riddles, eh?" Symest blushed.

"Yes, Sunfroc. This is a riddle. Please help me." Sunfroc grinned.

"If yer going to get me to work for you, you'd be on your way to tell his Majesty of all Kitchens that I want a deeper 'n ever pie fer myself with burdock cordial." Symest sighed. The pretty young mousemaid could be that cruel at times. He nodded. Sunfroc smiled winningly.

"Be off with ye now, ye young scraggly rip. I'll tell you what I figure out on a full stomach." Symest reluctantly trotted off to find Foremole, cellarhog Sordlin, and Friar Ethric.

* * *

Friar Ethric was preparing for Name Day and roaring orders like he had when he was a sergeant of the Long Patrol.

"Foremole! That is an absoballylutely awesome deeper 'n ever turnip and tater pie! Buddle you naughty little hedgehog Dibbun! Be good to Foremole and I won't jolly well chuck you out the window, wot! Respect your elders and betters." Foremole tugged his snout respectfully.

"Thank ee, Friar Ethric. Buddle, if you'm wants to 'elp oi, roll oop ee smock sleevers and wash ee paws furst."

Friar Ethric was making beetroot hotbuns. He chopped up 60 mushrooms and 60 onions swiftly and wrapped the slices up in sweet flour. He molded them to look like buns and drizzled beetroot soup onto them. He popped them in the oven and started on winefruit tarts. He gathered a bowl of fresh fruits from the orchard which had been recently delivered by Brother Vyddlen. He grabbed some nutbread that was finely crusted and trimmed with its edges rounded.

_By my left footpaw, I wonder who done this?_the perilous Friar thought. He drenched the nutbread with elderberry wine then spread it thickly with meadowcream. He chopped rasberries, sliced apples, and split cherries, removing stems, cores, and seeds as he went. He squeezed the juice out of the rasberries, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries and cranberries onto the winefruit tarts. Tiny pieces of sliced apples and cherries he stuck onto the tart with meadowcream. Finally he spooned globs of honey from a jar onto the tart. Ethric slit the caked nutbread into twenty six pieces and replaced the thirty four beetroot hotbuns with the winefruit tarts. He layed the hotbuns in a line on a long rectangular plate and called out,

"Beetroot hotbuns! Buddle, come and put this on the table please, sah! If you don't scoff any of them and be a good hedgehog I'll give you these candied chestnuts." He held up eight of them and winked at the Dibbun. He saluted stiffly.

"Yessah!" Buddle saluted back smartly, imitating the Friar. He grabbed the plate and ran off. A minute later he came back. "All thirty fah hotbuns still on da plate, sah! I putted it on the table, sah! I protected it from mista Symest, sah! Still thirty fah hotbuns on da plate, sah!" Ethric nodded knowingly. Buddle started munching on the crust of a winefruit tart.

"Symest, eh? Hey ho wot, Dibbuns can't have wine."

"I c'n eat dis winefwute taht because I cutted dis nutbwead biscuit. You not asks me to use de nutbwead biscuit, nutbwead biscuit belongs to Buddle."

"Drop the bally winefruit tart and I jolly well won't chuck ye out the window, yew scurvy scrimptch! Maybe I'll be nice and make you a mint and meadowcream tarts fer yerself." Then realization shattered onto him. "It was you who cut that nutbread?" He gaped at the innocent little Dibbun, stunned. Buddle tugged his headspikes respectfully.

"Ya, mista Friar, sah! I cutted the nutbread, Commandah of da Kitchens and High Offisah of the Pastry 'n Pie Patrol, sah! Can I have a candy chesknutty, sah!" Ethric handed the hedgehog his eight candied chestnuts.

"You can stop mimicking a hare now, Buddle. But if y'like it, there's nought wrong with it." Ethric handed Buddle his Friar's hat."Take over fer me, my liddle pal, while I talk with the warrior and the Abbot." Buddle continued his mimicking, and put on the hat proudly. He draped the long front edges behind his headspikes and he looked quite professional.

"Yessah! Thank ya, sah! Your lickle pal take ovah for you, sah! Permission for anudder chesknutty, sah!" Ethric almost handed him another candied chestnut, then, thinking again, ate it himself.

"You want a candied chestnut, huh? Well, Friar Buddle, get some of the chestnuts that Brother Vyddlen brought, preserve them in frozen fruit jam and honey, then yew've got yerself yer own chestnut." Then he ran and ran and ran like only a hare can run and didn't stop until he found Abbot Taffin.

* * *

"You want to appoint little Buddle the Friar?" Taffin spoke hoarsely. Ethric nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks at losing his beloved job.

"Ethric, you look like you've got the rapids pouring down yore face. Wot's wrong, mate?" Skipper of Otters strutted in and winked. "Drank to much strawberry fizz, an it's pouring out?" He turned around and was about to head for the wine cellars when Taffin grabbed him by the ear and cuffed him.

"Now, now, Skipper. Say you're sorry. He might lose his job to a Dibbun." Skipper sighed and sat down.

"Ethric, yew pore ole rabbitbottoms. Won't let an otter get his share of pear flan, eh?" Taffin nodded.

"That's why I kept you here. I'll get us all some October Ale, now. Cheer up, Ethric. It's Nameday." Taffin headed off. When Taffin was out of earshot, Ethric hopped up and glared.

"You otterchaps! Rabbitbottoms, huh. Rudderbutt, you, you..." Taffin popped in holding three beakers.

"Taffin, me old laddie buck! Me 'n me laddo 'ere, just chattin' the day away about..." Taffin answered for the irrepressible hare.

"Rudder-rear ends. Not quite the Abbeytalk. Maybe you'd like to help young Friar Buddle for Nameday? He's old enough to be Friar, I guess, because it's Nameday, and some Dibbuns become mature after Nameday." Ethric wiped his eyes with Skipper's paw. Skipper glared at the hare.

"Hey, me ole matey! Ain't very blinkin' polite! A sail fer a sail drowns all of the ships. Perilous, ye are, perilous indeed."

"Yew called me a rabbit. I bally rather think yew deserve it. Say, Abbot, capital idea!" Skipper walked off to the dormitories mumbling.

"If he don't recover soon enough I say just dose him with a spoon of Sister Medleys rosehip hotbroth or mapleroot elixir. That'd do the trick. And the mint leaf biscuits should wipe the distasteful feelings out of his loudmouth."

* * *

"Now me little rascal, Woodland Trifle next. Then we'll organize the cheeses and breads and drinks with the bally cellarhogs. I'll get the crystallized fruit, you get the honey and meadowcream, got it, me young blighter?" Buddle nodded and was off. Ethric gathered the bowl of crystallized fruit and a few vegetables. He met Buddle back at the counter.

"Now is the flour here, oh yes, here 'tis. Shape it into a maple leaf; it's the Autumn Feast. Good, now here, take this maple syrup, pour it over the sweet flour so it drenches it. Yes, now rub it into the flour, really rub. Good, sweet 'n sticky, and it looks shiny! Good job you didn't leave any pawprints. Turn it on it's side so it can roll, good now roll it lightly, don't press too hard, that's it. Keep it there. See, Buddle? Now it's thick and sticky. Split it into three equal parts and spread honey onto the sides. Push it back together, there, it sticks. It's dry now. Spread meadowcream on it, a thin layer. Now dice these fruit here. Good, nice and small. Stick them on the top, smart and sharpish. Stiff upper lip, wot wot, or else I might just lose it and have it at the scoffin' good vittles. Very nice, what a wonderful apprentice. Now bake that for a little while." Buddle rubbed his paws togethere eagerly, intensely staring at the baking masterpiece. Ethric nudged him.

"Ignore that fer now and make a soup out of these. Carrots, chop 'em into the tiniest bits. Radish, careful there, slice that very thin. Beetroot, grind that nicely, wot. The bloomin' mushrooms, make sure that they're a maple leaf shape, trim that one a bit. The mushroom scraps go in the bowl with the carrots and radish. Ooh, watercress, now you want one line of watercress. Dig your knife into this watercress, now start to cut slowly so you're trimming off a thin skin. You want it all connected. Absoballylutely awesome! Make a wavy design on the edge; the scraps, again, go in the bowl. Perfect!" A crisp smell filled the air, and for a moment Ethric dozed off, then stood straight sharply.

"Now take the flour out of the oven. See how the diced crystallized fruit is only splotches now? It's glassy because it was crystallized, or else it would be juice by now. The flour has turned a crispy gold, the crust a tannish brown. Line the watercress along the edge like lace. Good, now the mushrooms. Scatter them randomly, so it doesn't look too much like a perfect pile of leaves; we want them everywhere like the bright leaves on the Abbey lawn. Too much mushrooms over there, there that's better. See this bowl of veggible scraps? Add a bit of water, a little hotsauce made from otter hotroot, but not too hot. Okay, see that shrimp Skipper's crew caught, in the net over there? Take out thirty, quick as y'like now. I'm pleased, you make a wonderful apprentice, wot, me lickle rogue cook, wot. 'Lil uns like yew are born with a talented set o' paws, and a stout nose and floppity ears, it's a bally gift, by the left!

"Kick to the action, that's wot I say! Where were I? Right, crack off the shells, give them to me here. See this here? It's a knife with a sharp double blade edge. The shrimp are frozen and hard, but the inside flesh is soft. Now chop, quick like it! See, lots of thin, very thin, slices of shrimp, a pale rosy white. A tint of silver here, which means it's fresh, a tint of orange, that means it's soft and dull. Stack 'em up, chop at it again! Now they're very small, but not small enough. Grind it with this, here. Perfect! Sprinkle it into the hotsauce, that's the jolly stuff, wot wot! Mix it with the veggible scraps, a very soft mushy substance. Boil it up, wait, first put on the cap so it steams. Fair enough! See, Buddle, it's liquid now. Very much liquid. Here's the fun part; pour the soup straight onto the trifle now, drizzle globs o' it! Lovely! Chap's out of breath teachin' you all this. You're very bally good, Dibbuns usually allus mess up in this kitchen, and all they ever cook up is trouble. Add sugar, bally wot.

"Durrbin, you molechap, organize the cheeses and breads, will ya? We're busy. Fair squirrelmaidens Iriona and Lenvriae (Len-vee-are), will you work on the Honey and Crabapple Preserve with Cranberry Sauce? Don't forget, rasberry drizzle and strawberry and lemon fizz poured atop of it. Bellringer Joddle, please go down to the gatehouse and ask otterguard Flitten if she c'n find some ancient recipes? It's Nameday, we'll celebrate! More sugar, Buddle. Good, now the honey again. Drip it onto the top. Squirt meadowcream paste in a nice little design of maple leaves on a vine around the side. For some leaves use red apple pieces to make it look like leaves, sometimes use these mint dipped orange pieces, sometimes use yellow pear pieces, sometimes use green apple. Lovely! I couldn't have done better myself. These shrimp shells, now, mix it with meadowcream and onions, that makes something Skipper would eat. I made it up and called it Shrimp 'n Onion Platter. Blackberries! Brother Vyddlen, you've got everything! Blackberry tarts is all we need, the rest goes to the cellars for elderberry wine. Blueberries and almonds, blueberry and almond scones, pipin' 'ot. Joddle, me good pal, you've got yerself a recipe? Hmm, raisins and almonds with walnut cheese on crackers, huh? Wonder where the raisins and almonds together came from."

"Flitten sez she looked up the almond en' raisin combination, it's a recipe passed down from Sollertree the hedgehog, to his daughter Nettlebud and so on. Nettlebud! She's leadin' the pack of hedgehogs that Songbreeze's grandpappie's wife led. She's the grandmammie of Sordlin, our cellar'og! Wait, matey, stow yer gabs. That kinda talk is too puzzled up confusing for a haughty otter by the likes of me. Flitten, she's a pretty one, at that."

"Streamdog!" Ethric howled with tease. "Wotever you's be preferred to bein' called. A hare's a hare by my twitchin' ears! Yer in confounded love with the Flitten gateguard housekeeper!" Joddle turned bright red and menaced at the gluttonous hare.

"Her title is Flitten the Gatehouse Guard and Keeper of Keys and Sorter of the Recorders' Writings and Commander of the Watch on the Walls and Border Patrols! A hare might be a hare, but a hare ain't half as smart as an otter!" Joddle screeched. Flitten walked in, wearing a white blouse and silver sash. She wore a black, pink, and gray plaid skirt and had a pale pink flower tucked behind her ear. Her eyes shone happily.

"That's me. Ooh, and let me introduce you, ahem. Meet Boat-builder Kurdent Firdeal. He's an otter I found yesterday, injured by an attack of crows. I don't know how he survived it. Thank Sister Medley and the seasons he's alive. He said that he builds boats, and he's been hired by the shrews to build logboats. He says he used to work for a family of waterhogs and watervoles, but he was attacked by crows one day. He's joined Skipper's crew, and he's a powerful sailor. He's a descendant of Finnbarr Galedeep!" Flitten couldn't stop chattering on and on and on about the otter Firdeal and her eyes shone with anticipation. Her voice raised up to a squeak. Joddle wouldn't hear anymore of it. He longingly looked at Flitten, depressed, then stormed off cursing the name of Kurdent Firdeal. Flitten didn't even notice, just smiling at the bulky otter. "I'll bet he'd make a great warrior." Symest appeared at the sound of the word warrior, looked at Flitten, then at Kurdent, then at Flitten again. He shook his head and sighed and headed after Joddle, to the belltower. Ethric studied Kurdent's great size then walked back to the kitchen, grumbling, "If there's a lot of jolly muscle there must be a lot of jolly fat. Look at his size! Nothin' worse'n an otter stomach worse than Skipper's. Another mouth to feed."

By now Flitten was getting irritated, and worried. Why were all her good friends leaving her because of the otter warrior? It was so annoying that they couldn't see the excellent warrior he was and the kind soul he possessed. He was also quite handsome, she noted. At least Skipper accepts him.

A rosy gold dawn the next morning proved Flitten wrong. Skipper's crew were practicing javelin shots, and they were full of activity. Javelin after javelin Kurdent whurred hit the center spot of the target. Skipper was mumbling, "Show off" as were many other otters. _I'd like to teach that Skipper a piece of my mind_, Flitten though wistfully, _It's such a pity nobeast appreciates Kurdent's radiating talent but me. _Skipper and Kurdent were having a sling match. Skipper dropped and reloaded, and Kurdent paused. Skipper fired, his sling whirling so fast it looked like ten slings. Stone after stone, he missed. Suddenly Kurdent fired in a curvy way, twisting his paw and using an odd shaped stone. It dealt Skipper a hard blow on the forehead, and he was knocked out. Flitten silently cheered for his victory, but it seemed everybeast in Redwall was grim-faced and had a bad attitude that day, even the Abbot.

* * *

"Joddle, you like Flitten, don't you?" Symest tried to persuade Joddle to admit it, though he already knew it was true. "If you confess your feelings you'll feel a lot better, mate."

"Alright," Joddle sighed, "I did, aye, until that Kurdent Firdeal comes along an' wins 'er away. Now I hate 'er, and 'er liddle pet of 'ers. I just want to get rid of both of 'em. A pair of love duddles like 'emselves should be banned from 'is Abbey." Symest looked shocked.

"Hate is a strong word, Jod. I feel that you still like Flitten, and Firdeal has every right to join our Abbey peacefully."

"Bedoflyn! You little hedgehog! Get back here!" A spiky little head appeared from the shadowy stairs, a small chubby hedgehog panting cutely. She tugged her headspikes and smiled sweetly at the astounded otter and mouse.

"Quick," Joddle hissed, "In here." He swept a moldy blanket up to reveal a set of sandstone built against the wall on the floor leaving a Dibbun sized hole between the wall and the borders of the hiding spot. The blanket was a brownish red gold color with a muddy green line twisting about it, representing a vine. Bedoflyn crawled in, shaking with excitement at her newfound secret. Jod placed the blanket back on the sandstone, and he winked devilishly at Symest just as Sunfroc strutted in. She was a stunning sight; her habit was torn apart by the quills of the hedgehog. Wheezing, she glared at Symest.

"I can't think your riddle through, because you didn't bring me a turnip 'n tater deeper 'n ever pie. Also, I've got my fur run through with Dibbun hostility." A burst of giggles and the ruffling of the blanket set off her alarm of suspicion. "Now, where is that liddle queen of darkness? Missy hedgehog, if y' don't come out yet, I'll make sure you'll be in the dormitories at teatime. If you're whining and moaning all that time, I'll ask Sister Medley to her feed you feverfew on cobwebs, the special of your day." Bedoflyn crawled out reluctantly.

"Please, marm. Don't let Sissa Medley feed me feverfoo on cobwebs! I dona wanna die! No no, Bedoflyn, no bad ever never." She shook her head vigorously. Symest smiled a smile so sweet and innocent it could charm a fox.

"Bedo, come on. We won't let Sissa Medley feed you feverfoo on cobwebs. Sunfroc, I told Foremole about the pie. It should be done by now. Trod off to the cellar, I think he's sampling drinks." he winked as she sighed huffily. "Meet you up here in the belltower after tea," he whispered. Joddle agreed.

"Aye, mate. I'm coming too. An' me and Symest ain't lettin' you do anythin' wrong with that liddle spiky angel o' yores."

"Angel indeed," Sunfroc spat at the two males, "You're just as bad as any pair of mischievous Dibbuns yourself." She walked away. When she was out of earshot, Joddle turned to Symest.

"I might be in a 'confounded' love with Flitten, but the love with you and Sunfroc is pure to the eye." Then he scrabbled away like a naughty Dibbun caught guilty stealing scones before Symest could catch him.

* * *

Symest waited in the belltower, hoping the shadows would hide his blush. His deep brown eyes reflected off his pale tan and white pelt, making it shine brightly. Sunfroc finally came trotting up, chuckling to herself. Foremole had known nothing about any turnip 'n tater deeper 'n ever pie, and she'd accepted some Woodland Trifle instead. Thinking that Symest would be hungry, she'd brought up two cups of rosehip tea and some blueberry and almond scones.

"Hey warrior." Her eyes twinkled luminously in the light. Symest felt his fur burn under the shadows of the tower.

"Mmm, those scones look good. Better than any young mousemaid could make." He looked at her humorously, a comical awkward grin masked on his face.

"I don't think you're any better, Champion of Redwall." She sat down next to him and they stared at the belltower floor in silence. Finally, Sunfroc broke the silence, reciting the riddle she had memorized.

"Warrior, speak naught but what's true

Follow not the bright but the ones who you slew

Find first swamp of gold then the sail- and singing beast

Then rest at the home of the ten fight and double feast

Follow the stripe of the second best, midnight when blood spills to the sky

It is the blood of Nobeast, for Nobeast shall die.

Do not look to the firelit, only firelight.

After soup is boiled, then will it taste right.

Silence of waiting, patience does not fly

Before dawn is breaking, sound your battle cry

Now speak as I tell, clear and bold

Nobeast shall hear if it's untold." Then she voiced her opinion.

"I have none the idea who you slew, so that we must figure out later. Golden swamp? Swamps are not gold, they are mucky and full of lurking cruel scavengers. The sail and singing beast is Log a Log, shrew chieftain. The ten fight double feast, I haven't a clue. The stripe of the second best, blood spilling to the sky at midnight -how can blood spill upwards?- Nobeast shall die? That is confusing. But the firelit and firelight, I know it is hard, but when you understand it is easy. Ignore the fire part, you see lit, and light. Lit is a verb in the past, and light is a present or future verb. So it means look to the future and not what has passed. Maybe he doesn't want you to give up because of great losses. Soup? Now that gets off the edge of my mind. Silence of waiting, patience does not fly. It means wait silently for the right time, or else you may not succeed. Patience does not fly, but time flies. If you wait patiently, time will fly and sooner or later dawn will break. Before dawn breaks, I think when it just starts, you sound your battle cry and begin the war. The last part I can't figure out. It doesn't set any clues on fire. That is all I know, warrior. But by the look of your expression, you seem puzzled and clueless." The two mice unknowingly edged closer and closer, each thinking about the other more and gradually lesser about the riddle. Finally, as the moon came out, they fell into deep sleep, their heads lolled against each other, holding each others paws. Joddle smiled from a dormitory window. He and Elmint had noted down every word Sunfroc had found out.

* * *

Trephen kneeled, kissing Lystic's paw.

"Fair maiden, I mean not to be rude, but doing what are you here? I have seen long times and faraway places. I have seen bitter winds and sunlight dappled meadows. But you warm my heart like the last rose of spring. These are burnt-gold grasslands, with the occasional brownish green. I have traveled through these plains, and seen naught a bright smiling face by the likes of yours. This don't suit a pretty young squirrel, now does it? Beyond is a dark foggy wood, it is very mysterious, almost secretive. There are not bushes, no berries, just hard barked trees. It is called Ivy Woods. I have seen and met the creatures in there, and I have settled this information: They are not very friendly nor easy to get along with. They declare the wood their property. So, it is not safe for lovely squirrelmaids like you. And even beyond those haunting woods is sand, far and wide. The sand is white like snow scattered with pink pearly shells, for the ocean is just a bit away. Yet there is no water for a long time; the sand goes on forever. It is because of this quality that it is called Eversand View. Some legends say that there is no sea; that the sea is really just a vision of water, or rippling heat, or maybe just a pool of sweat dripping into your eyes. Or else they say that the sea is really the sea of endless sand all around you. The heat without water drives some so crazy that they start calling it "Sea of Snow Roses" or "Sea of Sand". They think it is cursed beauty, and it is. I know the magic of it. Oh lord, I have told you too much. Anyhow, where bid you to?" The squirrel was entranced by the fascinating tale.

"Oh, fine sir. You must forgive me at staring. But what I hear from you is wonderful. I have not given my behalf of the trade. I am going to the Grove to pick fruits from the orchard and harvest crops and collect healing herbs. Enchanting warrior, will you join me for tea? I would love to hear more of your tales."

"I would be honored. May I ask your title, if you please?" Lystic hesitated, unused to her name being referred to as a title. _Complications!_ she thought wearily. She quickly added up her tasks and her name.

"Lystic Bedinseft the Healer and Keeper and Tender of Silver Glen Forest and Communicator. And you are...?"

"I am Trephen Delestar Founder of the Warrior's Whistle Team and Keeper of the Whistle and Power Storyteller and Magic Enforcer at your service, my lady Lystic, Miss Bedinseft. Gonff the mousethief was my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandsire."

"Oh, a loudmouth spreadword are you, bushtail?" Lystic replied, grinning competitively.

"Squealnose yourself, frogbait! You're a squirrel too, treehopper," Trephen answered calmly but playfully, "What's for tea?"

**Ooh yes. A real cliffhanger, I know. [sarcasm] Now reviewing could help me update, and you might find out what's for tea. So contact now! and you'll be informed immediately for free on any further updates or upgrades. Constructive criticism and strict words accepted, flames- not. If you offer anything good, I might ask you to become my beta reader! PM now for further questions and qualifications.**

**~Cinna  
**


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